


First

by carminnat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, F/M, Fluff, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sad Ending, Set during the car scene in TWS, Steve Feels, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11434365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carminnat/pseuds/carminnat
Summary: “All right, I got one: who was your first kiss?” Natasha questioned. “Now, I don’t know if you’re too old to remember, but…”Steve raised a brow, side-eyeing her. She was still grinning, but in a more subtle manner. Perhaps she was genuinely curious. “She was…a friend.”





	First

The silence following Natasha’s one-sided discretion about considering her a friend of his felt longer than Steve could comprehend. It was when she set her feet back on the dashboard and his following decision to let it slide that she spoke up again.

“So, if that wasn’t your first kiss since forty-five,” she started, and immediately did Steve inhale a timid breath, “who is the lucky someone?”

“I thought we dropped the subject.”

“What—is this not something friends would willingly discuss?” she lightly scoffed.

Steve briefly glanced over at her beside him. “You know, you change your mind an awful lot.”

There was a twinkle in her green eyes, a grin adorning her lips. “‘Course I know that,” she replied. “But okay, fine; I’ll change the subject.”

“Thank you.”

The redhead let out a huff of breath and he awaited the upcoming loophole back into the conversation. When it came, he wasn’t exactly misguided. “All right, I got one: who was your first kiss?” she questioned. “Now, I don’t know if you’re too old to remember, but…”

Steve raised a brow, side-eyeing her. She was still grinning, but in a more subtle manner. Perhaps she was genuinely curious. “She was…a friend.”

“Yeah?” Natasha inquired, shifting in her seat. “And what was that like? Unless you’re too old to remember _that.”_

Steve’s hands loosened around the wheel, eyes focused far beyond the road. “That sort of thing is tough to forget.”

* * *

It was your sixteenth birthday, and it was a fairly quaint celebration. Acquaintances from school and work were scattered around the living area of your home. Bucky was deliberately chatting with a group of who Steve presumed were your friends. Your mother tended to the food and desserts, happily greeting guests.

Really, the only thing missing was you. Steve searched around the house for a hint but had come to no avail.

When he’d approached your mother, she suggested he look on the front porch, and he felt near stupid for not looking there sooner. That was where you’d go to think. That was where you’d invite him and Bucky, your two closest friends, to chat about what was on your mind. Yet this time around, there was no invitation.

Your unexpected disappearance from your birthday party was prompting enough.

And you were indeed out on the porch, seated on the cushioned bench. You’d turned over your quilted shoulder at the sound of Steve shutting the front door behind him. You flashed him a smile.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.

“Taking a break,” you answered simply. Then you patted the seat next to you. “Come. Sit with me.”

And he did, analyzing your stature for any sign of problem. He knew it whenever there was: the soft downturn of your lips, or a slightly crooked brow, or the straying eye contact. You chose to favour the ladder, and Steve spoke on it immediately. “What’s on your mind?”

You’d initially hesitated, as Steve could clearly tell, but you evidently chose best to speak. “It is a lovely party and all, but I gotta admit it’s a tad overwhelming. Hell, half the girls in there don’t know my name,” you chuckled. Then you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Really, I’d have much preferred to spend today with you and Buck.”

Steve smiled. “Well, he’s occupied with half the gals in there, so you’re stuck with me.”

You laughed again and Steve’s heart swelled at the sound. Soon had he found himself knee-deep in a conversation with you. When his turn came to listen, he reflected on his admiration for the way your eyes lit up while you went on in your speech. Even in the setting sun had the vicinity felt brighter just with a look at you.

Steve had always thought you were pretty. Yes, he thought many people were pretty, but you were truly beautiful to him. Lively, earnest, kind, honest, firm in what you stood for. His admiration was there from the day he met you. Whether they were returned or not, he wasn’t in any place to assume. As upfront as you were, it was difficult to tell what you felt for anyone unless spoken. You were a year older. You were intelligent, bold, and far beyond your years. How could anyone as beautiful as you be with a guy like him?

“Can I ask you a question, Stevie?” you asked suddenly and carefully.

“‘Course,” he answered.

You bit your lip, unsure. The gesture prodded his concern and his curiosity. “Do you believe that there’s a person out there for everybody?” you questioned.

Steve wrinkled his brows. “Depends on what you mean.”

“I mean,” you started, tucking your knees to your chest and looking to the sky. “Someone who’ll stick by you no matter what happens. Someone you’d tell everything to.”

“Everything?” he inquired.

You smiled softly, biting your lip again, instead in a more keen manner. “Yeah. As in your biggest fear. Your hopes. Or even your first kiss.”

Steve eyed you carefully, questioning the shift of your profile. “Well, you know my biggest fear, you know my hopes…” He paused. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

He expected you to be unfazed by his last revelation, but the raise of your eyebrows and the slight pout of your lips distinctly told him otherwise. Then you blinked, crossing your legs in front of you and sucking in a large preparatory breath. “Normally I’d say spiders, but I hate the idea of bein’ all by myself,” you laid out truthfully. “And I hope only for happiness both in mine and everyone’s lives.” It was your turn to pause. "You really haven’t kissed anyone?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Who’d wanna kiss a guy who’d have to get on the tips of his toes?”

“That can’t be the only reason why.”

And he was tempted to lie, but there really was no reason to. You were his best friend. You knew (almost) everything about him. So he turned to the sky, mimicking your previous position. “I dunno. Suppose that it's gotta be something you could recall word for word. In a good way, of course,” he said. “I want mine to be with that someone who’d stick by, like you said.”

The smile on your face was not mocking or teasing or any sort of sympathy. In fact, he could tell you were thinking through his comments. You reached and clasped your hand over his when you were finished. “You’re a real sweetheart, you know that?”

Steve chuckled. “It’s always nice to hear.”

Your grin broadened, looking off the side for a brief moment. When you look to him again, there was a glint of something he was unable to catch on time in your eyes. “Close your eyes,” you instructed in a whisper.

He was confused, but he nonetheless followed your command. In one, two seconds, he felt a pair of soft lips on his, your fingers curling around his palms. He was very surprised, but soon chose to cherish the warm feeling, satisfied and stunned when you pulled back.

The smile on your face was unmoving. “That something you think you’ll remember?”

He ignored the heat rushing to his cheeks and immediately collected himself. “Definitely.”

You laughed and pushed yourself back onto your feet, gesturing toward the door. “Let’s head on back inside. They’re probably looking for us.”

Steve could only clear his throat and nod, following you back inside with a pounding heartbeat and a light head.

* * *

Natasha hummed at the story from beside him. He was almost frightened to look at her, but he did so anyway. Her lips were curved slightly upward; a smile he had never seen her wear. Perhaps he was more frightened of the plausible questions he was cautious of prior to telling anyone about his life back then. _Where is she now? Did you love her?_

“That’s sweet,” the redhead commented instead.

He responded only with a light nod and turning back to the road.

“What was her name again?”

Steve stiffened, but only for a second. There would be no harm in telling her. “Y/N,” he answered, perhaps too forwardly, because she was silent for another minute.

After that minute, she spoke up with a claim he’d already thought through the past few years since he’d gotten out of the ice: “Maybe you’ll find that again. One day.”

And he appreciated the optimistic proposal. He liked having the idea of getting to love and befriend someone as smart and bold and beautiful as you all over again. But there was a truth to that. A truth he’d brokenly admitted to the woman next to him.

“The thing is, there’s no one quite like her.”

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote and posted this on my tumblr almost two years ago and i can't believe i never shared this here bc this is actually not that bad :')


End file.
